


again and again

by chaoticautumn



Category: South Park
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, i dunno im just sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 12:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19085293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticautumn/pseuds/chaoticautumn
Summary: death can put down even the happiest people





	again and again

A fervent pounding on Cartman’s front door yanked the brunette from his dream about Sizzlers and threw him back into his pitch black bedroom. Cartman groggily sat up in his bed, shaking the sleep from his head, and groped blindly for his phone on his bedside table. He squinted at the numbers on the lock screen until his eyes adjusted and groaned aloud. 1:36 AM. What the _fuck?!_

Cartman tossed his phone to the side, the thump much louder than it should’ve been in the quiet room. He let himself fall back onto the bed, just as the knocking on the door came back, even louder than it was when it woke Cartman up. Cartman grabbed the pillow next to him and slammed it over his face, muffling his enraged yell. Cartman’s phone vibrated from where it had landed and Cartman grumbled as he leaned over the side of his bed and used his charger as a rope to drag it back within arms reach. 

Huh. Text from Kenny.

_catrmna please lte me in_

Okay, so either the blond was incredibly drunk and accidentally locked himself outside of his own house despite having a window he kept unlocked, or something was actually wrong.

Cartman was willing to take his chances.

He let his phone fall onto his chest and pulled the blankets back over him, completely ready to fall back asleep when the knocking came yet _again._ God _damn,_ Kenny was persistent. 

Cartman kicked his blankets to the side and stomped downstairs, uncaring if his mom heard him. She probably wasn't even home, otherwise she’d have let Kenny in by now. He threw open his door angrily, glaring down the blond on the other side. “What in the _fuck_ could you possibly want right now?” he snarled, then stopped dead in his tracks.

Kenny was looking around anxiously, and when Cartman opened his door, his wide cerulean blue eyes darted back to Cartman. His usual bright orange jacket was unzipped and falling off of one shoulder, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. His hands were gripping his upper arms as though they were his life support, his ragged fingernails digging into his coat sleeve. Tears shone in the porch light, dripping from Kenny’s chin and onto the dusty welcome mat.

“It h-happened again-” Kenny stuttered out, voice trembling, his breathing growing uneven as his blond head of hair fell forwards. His shoulders were raised as if he could protect himself, tears falling from the tip of his nose now.

Cartman ran a hand through his own hair, mumbling a quiet, “Fuck.” He sighed after a few seconds and reached for Kenny, who tensed as soon as Cartman touched him, and pulled Kenny into his house, shutting the door behind him. He led Kenny up the stairs into his room, disregarding how Kenny slipped his arm from Cartman’s grasp just enough to keep his hand in Cartman’s larger one and flicked the light on. Cartman guided Kenny to his bed silently and tugged Kenny onto his bed next to him, letting Kenny keep his hold on Cartman’s hand. He knew it helped Kenny to be able to touch someone when he was like this.

Cartman knew why Kenny was acting like this, too. He knew of Kenny’s gruesome deaths over the years, he knew Kenny was always paranoid after a death, he knew no one else believed Kenny. When Cartman had asked Kenny how he always came back from some of the gorier incidents, Kenny had broken down crying at Cartman’s feet. And Cartman had known.

“What happened this time?” Cartman asked quietly, searching what he could see of Kenny’s marred skin for a new scar.

Kenny wiped at his face with his sleeve before silently slipping off his jacket and pulling up his dirty t-shirt to show Cartman his newest addition to his ever growing collection. Cartman’s jaw dropped to a small ‘o’ when he saw the jagged scar running diagonally across Kenny’s left side, still fresh and raw. This one looked… much more painful and slower than it usually was.

Cartman disentangled himself from Kenny’s hand and gently ran his fingers along the scar, pulling back a bit when Kenny’s chest heaved with a stuttery breath. He dropped his hand and Kenny let his shirt fall back down and gripped his upper arms again.

Cartman, unfortunately, never knew what to say when this happened. Kenny was always so lighthearted and aloof that seeing him like this, shaky and quiet, was always a major change of pace that Cartman hated. He could never get used to this, no matter how many times it happened.

Cartman blinked when a quiet sob broke through the silence. Kenny’s body was trembling slightly and he’d pulled his legs up on the bed, curling himself into a ball and hiding his face in his arms. His fingers dug into his skin, hard enough Cartman knew they would leave marks. 

Cartman hesitated before softly touching Kenny’s shoulder, knowing from experience he would most likely get punched if he grabbed Kenny out of nowhere. Kenny jolted away from Cartman’s hand, glaring at the brunette, defenses high and on alert before he realized it was just Cartman. Cartman waited a few seconds before moving closer to Kenny, the blond watching him warily. He wrapped an arm around Kenny’s shoulder and pulled Kenny so he was pressed to his chest, shifting both of their bodies so Kenny wasn’t twisted at an unnatural angle.

He rested his chin on Kenny’s mop of hair, trying to ignore how he could feel Kenny’s breathing against his neck. Kenny shifted a little bit more so he was curled onto Cartman’s lap, his arms still crossed but relaxed, his head resting on Cartman’s shoulder. His crying was quieter now and a hand had moved so it was pressed against his mouth as if he was hoping Cartman couldn’t hear him.

“Why me?” Kenny mumbled after a short bit Cartman had dozed for most of. “Why does this shit always happen to me? Why can’t this just stop?”

Cartman exhaled heavily through his nose, ruffling some of Kenny’s hair. “You’ll be dead for real if it does stop.”

“It hurts so much,” Kenny cried, no, whimpered. Cartman blinked when he heard it. Kenny didn’t do that. Ever. “It hurts every time, even the ones that aren’t supposed to hurt. I want it to stop.”

Cartman could feel Kenny’s shivering, tense body against his as he threaded his fingers into the messy hair at the nape of Kenny’s neck. “Hey,” Cartman murmured, moving slightly so he could speak clearly. “Nothing can hurt you here, got it?”

“There’s always something- You can’t be sure that-”

“Yes, I can, jackass,” Cartman interrupted. “I control what happens in this room, okay? And I say you don’t get god damn hurt.”

Kenny was silent besides the hushed sniffling, Cartman shifting uncomfortably in the quiet until Kenny spoke again. “Thanks, Cartman,” he said quietly, pressing even more into Cartman’s body.

Cartman could feel self-consciousness prick at the back of his neck and shook his head, trying to rid himself of his light embarrassed flush, then sighed in defeat. It’s not as if anyone else would be there to see it. Kenny most likely couldn’t, although he could almost definitely hear Cartman’s thundering heartbeat and how warm he’d gotten when Kenny said that. “Yea, whatever, gaywad,” the brunette muttered.

Everything was still for a moment, then Kenny hesitantly reached for Cartman’s free arm, which was currently draped across Kenny’s stomach. Cartman’s body went rigid as Kenny intertwined his fingers with Cartman’s again, but quickly forced himself to relax when Kenny faltered, clearly unsure of himself. Cartman didn’t like Ken being unsure of himself- it just wasn’t him.

“You wanna stay here for the night, Ken?” Cartman asked quietly, his eyes on their entwined fingers. He could see Kenny nod silently out of the corner of his eye, his gaze also on their hands. 

The two curled into each other under Cartman’s sheets, Kenny shifting so his forehead was pressed against Cartman’s chest, Cartman moving enough Kenny would be comfortable. Cartman’s arm had draped across Kenny’s side again, pulling him closer to Cartman’s body. Their hands were still touching in the space between them, the back of Kenny’s hand resting on top of Cartman’s larger palm.

“I don’t wanna die again,” Kenny mumbled. His voice already sounded heavy with sleep.

Cartman pressed his face into Kenny’s hair, almost like a kiss, as the blond drifted off. “We’ll figure it out,” he murmured into the unruly locks, and Kenny sighed beneath him.

**Author's Note:**

> i had no reasoning for this other then my mind screamed "write kenman" at me repeatedly for 8 hours and then this happened


End file.
